


Myosotis sylvatica

by ellbie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Another Post-EoT AU where the Doctor didn't regenerate and the Master is traveling with him, Humor, Initial confusion around a plant's pronouns, M/M, Martha Jones (minor appearance), Post-Episode: s04e17-e18 The End of Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellbie/pseuds/ellbie
Summary: The Doctor discovers a new species. The Master, of course, is jealous.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	Myosotis sylvatica

**Author's Note:**

> TW for misgendering, because there is some initial confusion about a plant's pronouns.

_Myosotis sylvatica, commonly called forget-me-not, is a hairy, tufted, spring-flowering plant that typically grows to 5-12” tall._

* * *

The locking mechanism of the TARDIS door was deceptive in its simple appearance, betraying several complex safeguards. Firstly, the small silver keyhole was isomorphically attuned to the owner of the craft by way of a metabolism detector, meaning that when strangers inevitably came across the spare key in the cubby above the "P", they wouldn't be able to use it. Secondly, the ship herself was telepathic and always realized when the Doctor forgot to lock up after leaving the Master on board to go gallivanting on some planet by himself. So she would bolt the door herself. 

Not that it was often the other Time Lord was left behind. According to the Doctor, it was only necessary when a planet was especially vulnerable to conquest. Or when it housed stockpiles of alien weaponry. Or when it was Earth.

The Master thought it a bit patronizing to hear this from a man that could barely remember to turn a deadbolt, but in return the Doctor swore up and down not to bring any more humans aboard.

Relationships can’t survive without compromise, after all.

He reached out, hand stopping just short of the wooden door, fingers twitching restlessly. He'd been standing there for several minutes, eying the unlatched door. This unfettered access to freedom meant the Doctor was back on the ship and had simply neglected to lock up upon returning. But the lack of his nonsensical adventure stories detailing every irrelevant bit of his leave of absence (if they could be called “stories.” The Doctor tended to hop from plot line to plot line in a way that sidestepped “logic” and plowed straight into “boasting”) must’ve meant the man was so engrossed in a task that his brain wasn’t diverting any spare energy to his usual passtime: annoying the Master. 

Or the Doctor was dead somewhere within the bowels of his ship.

Deciding not to get his hopes up, the Master dropped his arm to his side and marched back to the central column where he snatched up the intercom microphone, turning up his nose at the mess of wires, stacks of papers, and the ancient Earth flip phone that were scattered around the PA interface. There was also a crumpled, half-empty white paper bag of Jelly Babies, and he helped himself to one before leaning one hip against the panel, donning a smirk that he hoped would convey malevolence over loudspeakers, and switching the mic on.

“It would appear,” he said, voice blaring over the ship’s speaker system, “that the Doctor has left his TARDIS unlocked. I sure hope _the Master_ , who has been left _unsupervised,_ doesn’t get out and wreak havoc on the hapless citizens of this planet.” He paused until he was sure a response wasn’t coming before pressing on. “Seems like they have a rather tempting supply of” — he eyed the scanner, and his hungry grin deflated into a puzzled frown — “...sentient plants?”

With an annoyed huff, he dropped the microphone back into its cradle. Taking one last look at the exit, he considered briefly whether the universe could be overrun by an army of thoughtful vegetation, then marched down the corridor to look for the Doctor.

The TARDIS was cavernous and nearly infinite in its sprawling, with messy halls and tacked-on rooms that the Doctor would spin up on a whim and promptly forget about. The Master, who by now was well aware of the Doctor’s usual haunts, poked his head into the kitchen, the zero room, the wardrobe, the pool room, the billiards room, the water-billiards room (the Doctor had been in a punny mood that day), the fourth dimensional squash court, the library, the secondary and tertiary libraries (filled strictly with texts on the Rutan-Sontaran War, from the perspectives of the Rutans and the Sontarans respectively), the seventeenth floor observation deck (which the Doctor was still delightfully unaware of), the fractal vineyard, the antigrav glass blowing chamber, and the kitchen (again), but his nemesis was nowhere to be found. When a feeling that _definitely_ wasn’t worry began to creep into his gut, he decided to reach out with his mind, letting a telepathic signal wash through the ship. 

The moment it pinged back after bouncing off the Doctor’s presence, he breathed a sigh of relief which hitched in his throat as soon as a second presence, very near the Doctor’s, called back to him immediately after.

The Master bolted toward the microbiology lab.

“I don’t appreciate being ignored, Docto—” he said, freezing mid-stride after storming into the room, any previous concern dissolving immediately when he saw the Doctor sitting cross-legged on the floor, lanky body hunched over a what could only be described as a floppy ear of corn roughly the size of a cat with a bulbous red bloom at one end and a knot of stubby roots at the other. The Doctor had the… _thing_ sitting in his lap, and, baffled, the Master watched as his long fingers dangled a Jelly Baby over the fleshy petals until they peeled back. A newly revealed vine-like appendage stretched out and gingerly curled around the sweet before recoiling back into the shelter of the flower, swallowing the candy down what was apparently its throat.

The Doctor looked up at the Master and beamed. “Look at what followed me into the TARDIS!” he said happily, nodding down toward his lap to indicate the creature.

The Master blinked at him, then plastered a stern glare on his face. “What the _hell_ is that?”

“You’ll never guess,” the Doctor said, eyes twinkling with excitement. “It’s one of the native plant species from this planet. But get this: all the plants that grow here are—”

“Sentient,” the Master interrupted. “I’m aware.”

Unfazed, the Doctor returned his attention to the creature, which had curled a vine around his tie. It tugged gently. 

“Oooh, still hungry?” the Doctor cooed, fishing in his pocket for another offering of candy. “This tastes better than ties do.”

The thing seemed to agree and abandoned the silk to snatch up the newly proffered treat.

“Ollie loves the red ones,” the Doctor said with a chuckle as he ran his palm over the fluttering petals. “Aren’t those your favorite, too?”

The Master tongued petulantly at the bit of strawberry confection stuck behind his molar before redirecting the conversation. “Excuse me? _Ollie_?”

“ _Sprevius olithelium_ ,” he clarified. “‘Ollie’ for short. Or at least, that’s what I’ve named the species. I don’t think any of the life forms on this planet have been documented yet, so I’m making it up as I go along.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Didn’t consider he might already have a name. Come to think of it, he’s sentient, so I should probably just ask, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, the Doctor cleared his throat. “HELLO. IS THE TARDIS TRANSLATING FOR YOU? CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” 

The plant folded in on itself and gave an agitated rustle of leaves.

“Oh, sorry about that,” the Doctor said, lowering his voice. “What,” he added, drawing out the vowels slowly, “Is. Your. Name?”

The other Time Lord pinched the bridge of his nose and decided to graciously ignore whatever _that_ was for the time being so he could address another concern. “Did I just hear you call it a ‘ _him’_?”

The Doctor looked up at the Master, then down at the thing resting on his leg. He lifted it slowly with both hands, like he was picking up a small animal, and it rustled again in minor irritation as the Doctor looked it over for any odd protrusions, of which it had many. “Er…” He shrugged. “I guess I just assumed.” He put the struggling creature back in his lap, where it curled up after sneaking another Jelly Baby out of his pocket.

The Master sighed and approached the Doctor, stopping a few feet away from where he sat with the strange plant. “So is _this_ what you intend to do all day, then? Play gardener to a sentient cabbage?”

Either sensitive to the volume or the irritated edge in his voice — the Master refused to believe the thing was capable of actually understanding the insult — the plant pushed itself up with its vines and spun to face the perceived aggressor. The pale green husks along its body trembled in what sounded like a hiss, scarlet petals flaring out in a poor imitation of bared teeth.

It looked like a large, angry tulip.

The Doctor shifted to avoid the pointy spines at the base of the creature and gave it a comforting pat. “Shh, shh, shh,” he soothed, trailing a finger gently down its vibrating body until the fibrous leaves began to settle. He glared up at the Master as he spoke. “Did the gwouchy man scare you?”

The Master’s face twisted in disgust. “Oh, will you _stop_ with the baby voice!”

Being unfamiliar with this (formerly) undiscovered species of vegetation, the Master didn’t know that the vine-like appendages, which the plant used to drag itself along over the dirt in search of sun, water, or smaller plants to eat, could uncoil to a length of roughly three feet, putting it well within reach of the Master’s ankle. The Master also didn’t know that the end of the vine was covered with toxic barbs that were able to easily pierce the thin fabric of his suit trousers and socks and whip back into the shelter of the petals before he was even able to yelp.

“It _stung_ me!” he screamed, jumping back in surprise only to realize his injured leg didn’t quite respond. He fell to the floor with a shout and scrambled to yank up his trouser leg and inspect the wound, sucking in a breath when the fabric dragged over the oozing red welt.

“Can hardly blame him,” the Doctor said haughtily, standing to leave and letting the plant curl its vines around his shoulder, gently enough that it didn’t harm him, so that it could pull itself up to a steadier perch. “He has ears, you know,” — he pointed to one of the many pits that circled the base of the flower — “and _you_ ” — he pointed to the Master — “triggered his fight-or-flight response with your yelling.” His voice pitched with a sing-songy lilt. “And someone’s a fighter, aren’t they? Oh, yes you are!” He patted its flower head fondly. “I think we should find you some more snacks.”

The Master gaped as the Doctor stepped over him to leave the lab, and then he noticed his vision fuzzing. 

“Is that thing poisonous?” he slurred, tongue lolling uselessly in his mouth.

“Yes. Well, venomous, actually. Poisonous too, if you’re tempted to eat the leaves, which I would _not_ recommend—”

“ _Doctor,_ ” the Master hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes, right, the barbs. They’ll inject you with a mild neurotoxin. You’ll be fine in ten minutes or so. Trust me.” 

The Master watched as the Doctor tugged at his jacket sleeve, catching sight of a healing blister that stood out angry and red against the Doctor’s pale wrist before his vision unfocused. He slumped the rest of the way to the floor, eyes slipping shut as the Doctor stepped out of the room with the plant happily curled around his neck, chattering away until his voice faded down the hall.

“Ollie, have you ever played water-billiards? It’s pool... _in_ a pool. I thought it was a clever idea, but _some_ people don’t have a sense of humor and won’t play. Truth be told, I think he’s just scared I’ll beat him. Valid concern though, considering I did win second place in the 723rd semi-annual Hyper Carambole Championships on the planet Maun, and the concept really is the same. I would’ve come in first, you know, but Queen Ocina really didn’t want me in the running to marry her daughter, Princess Adiliza, and I’m _pretty_ sure she sabotaged my cue in the fourth sudden death round...”

* * *

Three days they’d been on that planet while the Doctor ran his little tests on the specimen. As the Master’s indignation grew, he wondered if maybe he should reconsider his “no humans” rule. While the Doctor’s obsession with Earth’s apex species was… _aggravating_ , the man’s fascination with his newest leafy pet was unlike anything the Master had ever seen before.

“How did you deal with him bringing all these” — the Master sucked his teeth, considering the most reasonable way to put it — “ _distractions_ onboard?”

The owner of the voice on the other end of the line, who mercifully hadn't hung up, despite initially greeting the Master with cries of “It’s three in the morning!” and “How are you calling from this number?” and “Oh my god, is it the Daleks again?!”, laughed warmly. “If there’s one thing I learned, it was that jealousy has no place on the TARDIS.”

The Master was beginning to regret punching in the return dial code on the phone. “I’m not jealous,” he snapped back lamely. He eyed the bag of stale Jelly Babies on the panel in front of him, frowning when he saw the rest of the red ones had been picked out.

There was another chuckle, slightly crackly through the obsolete speaker. “I said a long time ago that we need a support group for companions. Our mantra would probably be something like ‘There is life beyond the Doctor.’”

None of this was proving helpful. He glowered and considered ending the call, but Martha Jones carried on as if nothing was amiss. 

“What’s your name anyway?”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“It’s funny, you sound so familiar. I just can’t put my finger on it...” She paused, and the Master’s thumb hovered over the button to hang up, the penny dropping a split second before he could click it.

“...No,” she whispered breathlessly. “No! It _can’t_ be!”

He smirked. “Appreciate the advice, Martha. Ta!” 

“ _Master_ ?!” Her voice crackled over the connection. “Do _not_ hang up. How are you alive? Master, _answer me_!” she shouted. “And why are you with the Doctor?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said glumly, then disconnected the call. He removed the battery of Martha’s old mobile phone in case she decided to ring back and dropped it through the grates in the floor as he left the console room.

He didn’t have the faintest clue what the Doctor saw in humans.

* * *

The Master found the other Time Lord in the microbiology lab. He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed at the man’s habit for wearing reading glasses or the fact that he was still doting over the plant. 

OK, it was definitely the doting.

He watched as the Doctor pushed away from a cluttered desk where the plant sat, sending his wheeled chair rolling over to the table behind him, topped with a row of microscopes. He dropped a slide under the nearest one, peered down the eyepiece, and began fiddling with the adjustment knobs.

The Master ignored him for a moment, instead glaring at the creature until it turned, bulbous head tipping from side to side like it was trying to hone in on him. It’s leaves rustled slowly, but not with the high whine of its defensive hiss from earlier.

The Master smirked.

“Asexual,” he said, already prepared with a triumphant grin when the Doctor looked up from the microscope to scrutinize him. 

“Um…” the Doctor said. “No?” He perched his glasses on the top of his head, where they crunched down his wild hair. “Sorry, was that a question?”

The Master rolled his eyes and pointed at the rustling plant. “ _That_ is asexual. It reproduces through budding. Doesn’t have a gender, either. So it’s an _it._ Not a _him._ ” He narrowed his eyes, smiling thinly. “And its name is Todd.”

The Doctor blinked. “...Todd.”

The Master nodded slowly, eyes not leaving the Doctor’s. “Todd.”

“And you know this… how?”

Tapping the side of his head, the Master announced proudly, “I asked it.” And then, “Telepathically,” he added, when the Doctor continued to stare at him blankly.

It was a slow dawning, but the Time Lord’s smile eventually lit up so bright, the plant may have started photosynthesizing. “Brilliant! Oh, that is just _brilliant_. Why didn’t I think of that?” 

The Master didn’t deign to respond, instead watching with smug satisfaction (and a pinch of charmed affection) as the Doctor returned his glasses to their proper position and rolled back to the desk where he could scribble some notes in a notebook.

“There are a few more tests I want to run before I take Todd back home.” He closed the notebook and peered left and right over the messy surface of the desk, pulling up his glasses to search and coming up empty. “Huh. I need to grab some more candy. Todd can’t get enough sugar.” He stood, grabbing the plant around the middle and lifting it slowly. “Keep an eye on it, will you?”

Instinctively holding his palms out as the Doctor approached, the Master didn't get a chance to protest before the creature was placed in his hands. "What? No—!"

“I’ll just be a minute!” the Doctor called as he hurried out of the room toward the kitchen.

Todd quickly wrapped its vines around the Master’s left bicep, gently so as not to sting him, and pulled itself up so that it could nuzzle its head into the crook of his elbow. The Time Lord made a disgusted snort, adjusting his grip to cradle the thing with one arm, feeling the roughness of it scratching through his sleeve.

The flower ended at a thick, woody stem, visible just under the tips of its husks. The bark flaked up in small curls, and the Master watched as the leaves quivered against them, producing a rustly purring noise.

He felt the odd urge to pet it.

“Out of my head, you little mongrel,” he muttered. 

But he stroked a finger along its back anyway, smirking when its purring grew louder. He rested his palm along its body, marveling at how warm it felt as he rubbed his thumb along the bottom of its petals, just behind its pitted ears. Todd leaned its head into the petting.

“That neurotoxin is a nifty trick,” the Master said quietly. “How about we find a few thousand of your friends and start harvesting it?”

“Back!” the Doctor’s voice yelled from behind, making the Master jump. 

Todd gripped tighter in response, its spiky vines cutting into the Master’s skin. 

“Did you know the purple trees in the runic arboretum grow Jelly Babies? All this time, I’ve been walking the whole way to the kitchen… Uh oh!”

The Master scowled, busy pulling the embedded vine out of his arm.

“Did it get you again?” With the hand that wasn’t holding a fresh white paper bag of candies, the Doctor lifted the plant off the Master’s arm and took it back over to the table just as the Master stumbled forward, his limp arm barely breaking his fall. “That is very bad, Todd. You don’t get treats if you sting people.”

The plant gave a displeased little shake before curling back up in its spot between several dirty mugs of tea and a stack of botany texts.

“Oh, I just can’t stay mad at you, can I?” the Doctor cooed, tossing a red Jelly Baby in the air, which the plant snatched up excitedly. He popped one into his own mouth as well. “You want one, Master?”

"Mmmnfth," the Master mumbled angrily into the floor. Then he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Master on the PA vibes: https://halorvic.com/post/184184734554
> 
> ty echospool for the beta <3


End file.
